Boy Who Lived, The
by Batmannnn
Summary: The story of James and Lily's death, when Voldemort attempts to kill Harry.


Voldemort's finger twitched against his wand. He was scared.

_Of course I'm not scared! I am _Lord_ Voldemort. _He told himself. _It's just the atmosphere._

Godric's Hollow. It wasn't exactly a pretty picture. Normally, he thrived in areas like this, misty, dark and quiet. But for the first time in a long while, chills ran up and down his bony spine. He shivered. It was extremely risky, to murder a woman's husband and child and leave her all alone. Not that he cared how she felt, but what if she decided to seek revenge? Voldemort decided he had enough followers to protect him, and she couldn't be that bright anyway, no matter what Severus said. _Oh Severus. What a mess you create for your Master._ Voldemort thought bitterly. If it had been any other, Voldemort wouldn't have given it a second thought, he would've killed the girl anyway, especially with her being a filthy little mud-blood. But Severus was different. When he looked into Severus' eyes, he saw the deepest love and sadness. _Lord Voldemort is not a monster_. He told himself. He would not deny his smartest, sneakiest and most loyal servant his only wish. After all Severus had done for him. Severus was not one to have as an enemy, Voldemort was smart enough to know that.

Voldemort looked up, and noticed he was already at the Potter's. It wasn't as long a walk as Wormtail had described. _Hmm, his fat little legs probably took shorter steps than most._ Voldemort laughed to himself, then stopped. _Lord Voldemort does not laugh._ He regained his composure, and held his wand up to the doorknob.

"_Alohamora_." he whispered. A light flashed through the keyhole, and the heavy wooden door swung open. Voldemort stepped inside, his feet barely touching the floor, his hands by his side. His cloak covered his head, and swept along the floor, making a slight swishing noise, the only sound he made. He looked around. The Potter's were no where to be found. He was standing in the middle of a very cosy kitchen, with old wooden stairs to his left outside the kitchen door. He made his way over to the stairs. He began to climb, slowly, silently, until -

_Creeeeeak_.

Voldemort cursed under his breath. He had stepped on a creaky step on the old staircase. What a foolish mistake. He quickly hopped onto the next step, and hoped the Potter's had not heard him. Not that it mattered. He was going to kill the baby anyway. If the boy lived, no one would fear Voldemort, after the "Chosen One" who could supposedly stop him. He couldn't have that chance. If only that prophecy hadn't been made. It was the first statement that questioned Voldemort's power. The prophecy stating that Harry Potter - a _baby_ - was the Chosen One. _It's absurd! Harry Potter, supposedly the Chosen One. I am the Chosen One! I am Lord Voldemort! _he silently fumed.

He could hear faint murmurs from above him. He cocked one ear and listened closely.

"- James, I'm telling you I heard something. Go check downstairs, please." A woman's voice begged quietly.

"Lil, I promise, I didn't hear a thing. We're absolutely fine." Voldemort could hear reassurance form in the man's his voice. Oh how wrong he was.

"Please, just go look. Now." she begged again. He sighed.

"Ugh, Lily, you're such a killjoy." he chuckled softly, affectionately. She glared. "Fine, fine, I'm going."

Voldemort's heart thumped in his skinny chest. _You don't have a heart_. He reminded himself with a dark smile. He looked up, and watched as the shadow of James Potter came into view. He ascended the last few stairs silently and stepped into James' view.

"Oh?" James gasped, startled. He coughed, and tried to make his voice more menacing. "Who are you, and what do you think you are doing in my house?" he demanded, raising his wand and pointing it to Voldemort.

Voldemort chuckled a quick cold laugh. "You must ask who I am, James?"

James shivered, as Voldemort reached up and removed the cloak's hood. James' mouth dropped open, and he gulped. He held his wand further out, trying to appear intimidating, but Voldemort saw the glint of fear in his eyes.

"James, you are not going to attack me." he said patiently.

"Wanna bet? _Stupefy!"_ James roared.

"_Protego_" Voldemort deflected his spell with ease. "_Sectumsempra!" _he shot the spell Severus had taught him. James jumped out of the spell's path, and it hit the wall near Harry's bedroom, having no effect. James recognised the spell and growled.

"What are you doing here? you piece of shit." he spat. "What has my family ever done to you?"

Voldemort smiled. "My dear boy. You are so absent-minded. Your son Harry is proclaimed to be the 'Chosen One'. With him around, people may have _hope_ for an end to my reign. You see how this is a problem. I'm afraid I cannot let your son live." James' face drained of colour. His heart sped up. There. That was the reaction Voldemort was looking for. He stepped forward. James leaned so he was blocking the hall that lead to a closed door.

"_Reducto!_" James yelled. His spell missed and hit the wall, causing it to burst into millions of pieces. "Shit!" he cursed as he realized he had just destroyed part of his own home. That split second was the worst mistake James could make. When he wasn't concentrating, Voldemort pointed his wand.

"_Avada Kadavra!_" he bellowed. The curse hit James straight in the heart, and his whole face lost life. Frozen in a permanent look of fear and anger, he dropped to the floor, completely still. Voldemort didn't give him a second look. He glided straight down the hall past James, into the room which must have been Harry's.

His bony fingers wrapped themselves around the old style doorknob, and twisted slowly. The only sound he could hear was the rustic doorknob scraping against the door as it twisted. He pushed the door open silently. His eyes scanned the dark room. A white cot lay in the corner, with muggle ornaments hung from the ceiling. A large cupboard stood next to the cot, and the walls were painted baby blue. _Cute._ Voldemort thought dryly. He reached up along the wall and flicked on the light. He paused, and took two deep breaths. He loved suspense. He looked at the cupboard. It was the only place they could be hiding. With a swift flick of his wand, the cupboard doors were flung open, revealing a beautiful red-headed woman holding a dark haired baby in her arm, covering his mouth with a pale hand, attempting to comfort him, even though tears streaked down her lovely face. At sight of Voldemort, she screamed. A bloodcurdling shriek of pure terror. She turned her body away from Voldemort, covering Harry as best she could, while bawling her bright green eyes out.

"Hello, Lily." Voldemort said politely. She whimpered in response. "You do not need to stand in the cupboard, please come out." he coaxed, trying to make his cold voice appear inviting. She slowly stepped out of the cupboard, shaking and glaring at him.

"Oh, my apologies. I did not mean to frighten you." Voldemort said, lowering his wand. Lily moved as quickly as possible, and set Harry down in his crib. She stood in front of him and attempted to block Harry from view.

"Please, why would you kill James? He did nothing!" she sobbed.

"Anyone who gets in my way is a problem. He tried to attack me. His spell came first. I am here for a reason."

"What do you want?" she cried.

He smiled. "Your son."

She screamed.

"No. No no no no no." she moaned.

"The prophecy says that he is the Chosen One. They say he can destroy me. He can't have that chance. He must be killed." Voldemort said silkily.

"I won't allow you to." she stood up straighter.

"Lily. I'm afraid the decision is not up to you. However, your life tonight will be spared." he offered. She stared at him incredulously.

"Why?"

"Because, a dear associate of mine has specifically requested your life not be taken on my mission." he explained. She thought for a minute as his words sunk in. Suddenly, her confused expression turned into one of horror.

"No...No way...Not Severus...He wouldn't do this to me...How could he know...You were coming tonight, and he knew? And he didn't try to protect us?" she stuttered, fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks.

"My dear, be glad! Your life will be spared!" Voldemort exclaimed.

"No, please. Kill me instead. Leave my son." she begged. He shook his head slowly.

"I am afraid not. Step aside, Lily." he ordered.

"No. Kill me. Please. I'm begging you. Leave Harry, please." she sobbed.

"Patience is a virtue I lack, Lily." Voldemort sighed. "Step aside, and leave. Save yourself. This is your absolute last chance. If not, I will be forced to kill you too."

Lily reached for her wand in her back pocket. She patted her jeans lightly, and she was filled with dread. Her pockets were empty. She glanced at the cupboard, where her wand lay on the floor. It must have slipped out of her pocket while she was holding Harry. She broke out into a cold sweat and her throat suddenly felt dry.

"Please." she whispered. "Kill me. Kill me and leave Harry." she broke down in tears.

"I cannot." he said simply.

She glanced over her shoulder at Harry. He was looking up at her questioningly, with big bright green eyes.

"I love you." she murmured, so quietly only Harry could hear. She turned back to Voldemort, and regained her composure. Time seemed to go in slow motion. She suddenly leaped forward, her arms outstretched. She knew it was a long shot, but it was the only one she had. She charged towards Voldemort's cloaked figure, attempting to tackle him, choke him, pretty much just injure him. She had to keep Harry safe. But Voldemort was quicker. His wand was ready.

"_Avada Kadavra._" he roared. She stopped in her tracks when the green jet of light hit her in the stomach. Her body fell forward, her fiery red hair flying behind her as she connected with the floor. Voldemort laughed a high, cruel laugh. _That's what you get when you try to take down Lord Voldemort._ he thought.

Suddenly, from the cot, Harry burst into tears. Voldemort stalked over, his black cape swishing behind him. He stared at the baby ominously. Then, he smiled a cold, wicked smile. He laughed coldly again.

"Did you really think you could stop me?" He raised his wand to Harry's forehead. "I am Lord Voldemort. No one can stop me. What should make you different? You are _nothing._ I am _everything._" he spat. Harry's eyes widened as Voldemort spoke to him.

"Nice try. _Avada Kadavra!_" he snarled. A jet of green light shot into Harry's forehead. Instead of killing Harry, the curse burned into his forehead, leaving a lightning scar where it seared his skin. The jet of green light ricocheted, and Voldemort's smile turned into a look of pure fear. The curse hit Voldemort straight in the throat, and he let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

His body disintegrated with a deafening bang, and the explosion left the room blackened and burned. An eerie fog filled the room, and Harry coughed as smoke filled his lungs. Voldemort's pitch black robe fell to the floor, the only remains of the evil wizard. Harry's fearful tears turned into bawling, and his tiny hands flew to his forehead, to his new scar. It didn't bleed, but it burned Harry's forehead. He sat in the dark all alone for what seemed like an eternity, all by himself, until his howls turned into sobs, and he eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep, where he dreamed of his parents, a hooded figure, and a green flash of light.

Harry Potter would be forever known as The Boy Who Lived.


End file.
